HIS WHITE LUNA

Chapter 6 - THIRTY DAYS

None of us got out of the car.

Sebastian sat on the couch inside the silver-lined cabin that was supposed to be safe. Legs crossed. Black suit perfect even in woods. An old photo album open on his lap.

Through the windshield, from twenty feet away, he held up a photo.

Even from here I could see it — Polaroid, faded. Little me on the swings, brown hair in two ponytails, laughing, and little Harrison hanging off my wrist with his teeth, eyes squeezed shut, determined.

"Your dad took this," Sebastian called out, voice carrying through closed windows like the glass wasn't there. "Alpha King. He said, 'Look, Sebastian, your little brother found a human who doesn't fear him.' He was proud. For five minutes."

Harrison's hands tightened on steering wheel until the leather creaked. His claws were back, just tips, digging in.

"He's inside silver," Harrison hissed, low. "Silver should burn Godless. How is he sitting inside silver cabin?"

"He's not burning," Brayden whispered from back, white eyes streaming silver tears now, not blood. "Because... because inside he's more empty now than ten years ago. Silver burns wolf soul. He has no soul to burn. That's why he's stronger."

Sebastian closed album gently, placed it on table like a guest.

"I'm not here to fight," he said, loud enough, still pleasant. "If I wanted to fight, your Alpha barrier would not have lasted two seconds, Harrison. I'm here to talk. Like family."

"Family doesn't murder family," Harrison snarled, but didn't get out.

Sebastian stood. Slowly. Straightened his jacket. Looked directly at me through windshield, through Harrison.

"Isla. You can stay behind them if you want. I won't touch you. Today is... sour day. Like I said."

My mouth was dry. The white thing inside me was not purring now. She was low, belly to ground, teeth bared, but not attacking. Staring at empty thing.

Ethan's hand found mine in backseat, cold and solidifying. "We go out together. He wants to divide us."

We looked at each other. Four nods again. Same as in fog.

Harrison turned off engine. The sudden silence in woods was loud. No birds. No wind. Just our breathing.

He got out first. Then Brayden, then Ethan, then me last, hiding behind Harrison's big back. Harrison's back was shaking — not fear. Rage. His black t-shirt stretched over shoulders that were too broad for human.

Sebastian stepped out onto porch. He didn't walk down steps. He waited, hands in pockets, like a host.

"You knew this day would come," he said to Harrison, not unkind. Almost tired. "Didn't you? Valentina told you she hid the White Luna light in a human girl. She told you not to touch moon lanterns, not to go near that office. Because she knew if you touched it, Isla would too. Eventually. Girls are curious. And when White touches moonstone that belonged to her mother..."

He looked at me, soft. "Your mother Selene touched that lantern every day. It remembers her blood. So it woke you up."

"Why now?" I blurted, voice small, hiding behind Harrison. "Why let Valentina hide me ten years if you could find me any time?"

Sebastian smiled, sad again. That fake sad smile that looked almost real.

"Because Moon Goddess is cruel, little Luna. White Luna blood is poison until you turn eighteen. If I drink it now, I die. Sour. Green. Only on eighteenth birthday, at exact moonrise hour you were born, it turns sweet. Mature. God-blood."

He looked up at sky, even though trees blocked it. "Thirty days from today. May 12th, 11:47 PM. I counted. I counted ten years."

Thirty days. Same as in vision.

Harrison stepped forward, gold eyes igniting, claws full out, chest out.

"Then why don't you attack now? Take her now and keep her in basement till birthday? Why talk?" Harrison challenged, voice half growl. "You are strong but you are one. We are three future Alphas and one Seer. You can't take all of us if we—"

Sebastian laughed. Real laugh this time, not polite. It echoed wrong in silent woods.

"Harrison. Little brother. You think I need to keep her in basement? If I take her now, your pretty pack bond will make you hunt me every day for thirty days. You will die tired. She will hate me and hate makes blood sour. No."

He stepped down one step. One. The silver-lined porch light — which was off — flickered silver for a second under his shoe, like it tried to burn him and failed.

"It's meaningless to fight today. Blood is not ready. But until then... I have a plan."

He looked at each of us slowly — Harrison, Brayden, Ethan, me.

"You wolves always think small. Pack. Territory. Mate. You have wolf, so you think like wolf. I have no wolf. So I had to learn to think like... human."

He tapped his temple.

"Humans are many. Wolves are few. Humans hate what they fear. And they fear you. They just don't know you exist yet because Valentina puts veil over this whole town. Cute trick."

Brayden inhaled sharply. "No..."

Sebastian's empty brown eyes glittered.

"I hate wolves," he said, simply, honestly, for first time without smile. "Because I have none. Every time you shift, every time you smell mate, every time you hear Goddess, you remind me I am empty. So I will not make an army of wolves to fight wolves. I will make an army of something that hates wolves as much as I do. Something that already lives here, in your school, in your town, waiting to be told what monsters you are."

He looked directly at me, behind Harrison.

"Thirty days, Isla. On your birthday, I will become God. But I won't be alone. Your school will come with me."

Ethan whispered, "The gas... the veil... humans saw us as normal, but—"

Sebastian put finger to lips. "Shhh. Don't spoil it. Solve it yourself. That's more fun."

He turned to go, back to woods, hands in pockets again, like conversation over.

Harrison moved before thinking — Alpha instinct — lunging, claws aimed for throat.

Sebastian didn't dodge. He just... wasn't there. One blink, his suit was empty air, collapsing like no one was inside it, then even suit gone. Like fog.

Vanished.

Only his voice left, from everywhere and nowhere, soft:

"Stay out of my way, little brother. And take care of my birthday present. Don't let her get bitten by anyone else before me."

Silence crashed back. Birds still not singing.

We stood frozen for a full minute, breathing hard.

Then Brayden lunged for cabin, inside, slamming door, locking it, checking windows — all silver-lined, now safe again because Sebastian left.

Harrison pulled me inside, still shaking, checking my wrist, my neck, like Sebastian might have marked me without touching.

Inside cabin was small. One room, couch, table, fireplace, photo album. And smell — old Alpha King smell, faint, like Harrison's dad. Safe smell.

Ethan collapsed on floor, flickering wildly, then solid. "He could have killed us."

"He didn't," Harrison said, pacing, claws retracting slowly. "Because blood not ready. He said hate makes blood sour. He wants her willing? Or not hating?"

"He wants army," I whispered, sitting on couch, album in lap. Polaroid of me and Harrison. On back, handwriting: _Isla & Harry — Day he claimed her. Keep safe. - K_

Alpha King wrote that. He knew.

Brayden hadn't spoken. He was staring at wall, white eyes blind, seeing puzzle. His nose bled again, but silver this time.

"His hint," Brayden whispered. "Think like human. Humans hate what they fear. Army that hates wolves... in our school... starts with school..."

He turned, white eyes locking on me, horror dawning.

"Oh Goddess," he breathed. "He's not going to turn wolves. He's going to tell humans we exist. He's going to make humans turn on us. He's going to turn Willow High into hunters. And hunters don't need wolf blood to kill wolves. They just need to believe."

Outside, far away in direction of school, even through trees, we heard it — faint — human kids still evacuating for gas leak, but now a different sound mixed in.

Sirens. Not fire truck.

Police.

And a man shouting through megaphone, voice distorted: "REMAIN CALM! WE HAVE REPORT OF WILD ANIMALS ON CAMPUS!"

Harrison went pale.

"Sebastian called them," he whispered. "He started already. Tonight."

And from cabin window, we saw it — white argon fog from school was spreading, but now it had a faint red tint in moonlight, crawling toward woods, toward town, toward us.